


Lazily Hedonistic Mornings

by LunaDeSangre



Series: Love is... [8]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Snapshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 18:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12710916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaDeSangre/pseuds/LunaDeSangre
Summary: Kelly gets distracted.





	Lazily Hedonistic Mornings

Matt stretches in the patch of sunlight coming from between the half-closed curtains like an overgrown blond cat, lean muscled form extending its entire length, shivering in tension from fingers to toes for a couple of seconds, before relaxing with a yawn and curling back up on the other side, body all sleepy and loose, long legs folded almost knees-to-chest, ankles crossed, elbows bent close to that slowly-breathing chest and hands tucked under that perfect pointy chin, face half-pressing into the pillow (the one that Kelly now thinks as _his_ with still slightly disbelieving, but very, very grateful delight) with a little contented _hmm_. In the early morning sunlight, in the otherwise dark bedroom, Matt's skin is so pale it seems to be glowing, and his sex-mussed hair looks like pure, finely-spun and artfully-tangled _gold_.

Kelly _was_ going to make him breakfast-in-bed this time. He'd been really determined, as he gently and carefully extracted himself from his gorgeous lover's clinging limbs to go to the bathroom, mind already sorting through the pancakes-making ingredients he hoped were in Matt's pantry and trying to remember if he'd ever seen a squeezer for the oranges he knew were in the fruits bowl on the counter.

But that was before he came out of the bathroom to _this_. Breakfast? Who needs breakfast? He doesn't think there's a single person in the universe who'd have the strength to _not_ climb back into bed, faced with this sleepy, glowing, golden angel, who could resist gently drawing him in their arms, reverently kissing his forehead when he curls around them instead with a happy little huffing sigh. Not one. Fuck breakfast.


End file.
